“Who Gets to Be ‘Ideal’ in Our Culture – and at What Cost?”

Returning to Pakistan after living abroad for so many years was a whirlwind of emotions. On the one hand, I missed the familiarity—the comfort of home, the smell of home-cooked food, and the warmth of my family. But on the other hand, I didn’t quite feel like I belonged here anymore. Living abroad had transformed me in ways I didn’t expect, and I was no longer the person my family thought I was.

I had always been the obedient daughter, the one who followed the rules. But being away from home for so long had allowed me to redefine who I am. I started to choose my own path—independent, confident, and free from the constraints of expectations. But when I returned, I was confronted with the same questions, the same pressures: Why aren’t you married yet? Why don’t you have a family?

It felt like I had regressed into a version of myself that I had left behind. And then there was Zahra, who had stayed here, trying to live up to the same ideals that society expected from her. She was still caught in the cycle of wanting to be the perfect daughter. I could see it—the strain in her eyes, the exhaustion of trying to be everything everyone wanted her to be.

When Zahra made that comment about my “Katrina Kaif” accent, I could see it was her way of poking fun at the distance between us now. I wasn’t the same girl who had left for abroad. I had changed, and I had outgrown the life everyone expected me to live. But it made me sad too—sad because I wanted her to experience the same freedom, the same sense of self, that I had found. I wanted her to understand that she didn’t have to live up to others’ expectations. She could choose her own life.

Zahra’s POV:

Umeed came back from abroad, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I had always looked up to her, but there was a part of me that couldn’t help but feel a little bitter. She had left, gone on to live this amazing life, and come back as a completely different person. I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy and focus on the fact that Umeed was my cousin—my family—but it wasn’t easy.

I had always been the one who stayed. The one who followed the rules. The one who tried to be the perfect daughter, the ideal niece, the one who always did what was expected of her. I kept my life simple, stayed out of trouble, focused on my studies and my family. But seeing Umeed now, it was clear she had moved on. She had found her own path, and I felt stuck.

When I joked about her new accent, saying she sounded like Katrina Kaif now, it was more than just teasing. It was my way of pointing out how much she had changed, how far apart we had drifted. I couldn’t help but feel like I was still stuck in the past, still trying to live up to these expectations that everyone had for me. Why couldn’t I be like her? Why couldn’t I be free?

But the truth was, I didn’t know how to let go of the life that had been expected of me. I didn’t know how to break free from the cultural and familial pressures that seemed to define me. Umeed had done it, but I couldn’t figure out how. And part of me was scared to even try.

Umeed’s Parents’ POV:

When Umeed came back, we were overjoyed, of course. But it wasn’t the same as before. She had changed, and not just in small ways. There was a confidence to her that we hadn’t seen before. It was almost as if she had outgrown the family, outgrown the life we had always envisioned for her.

We couldn’t help but wonder—why hadn’t she settled down like the other girls her age? Why wasn’t she married with children? What had gone wrong? She had always been the good daughter, the obedient one. But now, it felt like she didn’t care about the things we had hoped for her. It was difficult for us to understand.

We wanted her to settle down, to start a family, to follow the same path we had laid out for her. But it seemed like she wasn’t interested. She was happy doing things her own way, and while we were proud of her accomplishments, we still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. We wanted to be proud of the “ideal” daughter, the one who fit into the mold we had created for her.

Zahra’s Parents’ POV:

Zahra has always been the perfect daughter. She’s done everything we’ve asked of her. She’s gotten good grades, she’s stayed out of trouble, and she’s always been there when we needed her. But when Umeed came back, we couldn’t help but feel a little worried. Zahra had always been so focused on being the ideal daughter, so focused on pleasing us, and seeing Umeed so free and independent made us wonder if Zahra could ever feel the same way.

Zahra still lives by the rules. She still cares about what others think. And we don’t want her to change—at least, not too much. But seeing her and Umeed together made us realize that maybe we had placed too much pressure on Zahra to be perfect, to be the ideal daughter. We just want her to be happy, but we’re not sure how to let go of the idea of what that happiness should look like.